Confessions of Amy Cahill
by Kisses are Stupid
Summary: Amy wasn't clumsy enough to drop her shoe, or stupid enough to leave it behind. She happened to throw it at the cocky jerk, or more commonly known as Prince Charming... yet Amy isn't so keen on coming back, because there's another admirer waiting for her.
1. Lady Luck

I was running late again, and what was worse, I was running late for Mr Pierre's lesson. And he was absolutely anal about timing. The smell of cleaning powder from last night still lingered in my nose after cleaning for five hours the entire ballroom.

I jogged down the long corridor, with various school labs blurring past. Next thing I knew, my right foot abruptly halted as I stepped on my shoe lace with my left one. My nose collided with the wooden door and was squashed into it like an accordion. My hands flew to my face and I cursing and wincing, nursed what was left of my nose. After few deep breaths I looked at the door number. _14_.

Well, at least it was the right door. Wiping away the moisture around the rims of my eyes I angrily pushed the door open and twenty people simultaneously turned around to stare at me. There was a wave of chuckling and snickering.

"Miss Cahill. I'm grateful that you didn't smash your head through my door. Take a seat now," Mr. Pierre snipped bitterly. Another wave of laughter rang through the classroom. My blushing put a tomato to shame and as quietly as possible, I sat in the back of the classroom. A French manicured, tanned hand went up in the air indolently. I knew that hand far too well. On many occasions, I wanted to break it.

"Mr. Pierre," Natalie Kabra, drawled impishly, "Amy has been late almost everyday of this week, shouldn't she get a detention?" she asked. Mr. Pierre blinked for a moment and pushed his glasses up his crooked nose. Did you get that? The part about Natalie Kabra being in the same school as I? Yeah, well I'm afraid that is correct. I got a scholarship… to the same school where the Kabras go. Oh, and we're in the same class because the stupid school just decided to randomly mix the year twelve students and eleven students together in their classes.

Screw. My. Life.

"I don't believe I've given you permission to speak, Miss Kabra. And what should or shouldn't happen to Amy is none of your concern," he said evenly. Natalie scowled and her hand fell limply on her desk. Although Mr. Pierre loved to terrorize his students, I respected him for terrorizing all of us, regardless of whether one was a royalty or not, considering this Academy held many powerful members of aristocracy. I wrinkled my nose a few times to check if my nose was broken and took out my books.

The lesson was painfully slow, because it was equally boring. I loved science but it was physics particularly I couldn't get my head around. Biology and Chemistry was okay, but Mr. Pierre's physics class was a torture for my mind. Was I more terrified of the teacher or the lesson? It was a vicious cycle actually- I didn't understand physics and for this, Mr. Pierre hated me, and because he hated me, I didn't understand physics.

The long awaited school bell rung and I dashed for the door.

"Not so fast Amy Cahill," Mr. Pierre said crossing his arms. The rest of the crowd brutally pushed past me to get out of the lesson. Natalie flicked her black, straw-like hair and smirked giving a little wave.

"Sir, I'm really sorry, I just had to finish some things at home and I-"

"I'm hearing the same thing over and over again," he said sternly. I stood there frozen. "Next time I will _have_ to give you a detention."

"I know sir, sorry again."

"_Go._" he commanded.

"Amelia, you were late _again_?" Jaqi piped, "I can't believe that bitch is making you do chores in the morning as _well._"

Being my closest friend, she was full of motherly concern. "I'm so tired," I mumbled and pushed away the lunch tray. I was too tired to talk, or to self-pity or to stay angry. Anger was such a draining emotion. And so is love apparently, but in a good way. Not that I know, I've never been in love. Placing my head on Jaqi's shoulder I closed my eyes.

"You're going to enjoy life so much more when you break free from that family," Gus said chewing down his multi-layered sandwich. I smiled at the thought of freedom. I couldn't wait to get away from the Kabra mansion. The house that I once called my home became my prison.

"I decided once I leave that family, I'm going to change my name to Amelia straight away," I announced proudly.

"Well that's not much of a change for us since we call you Amelia already," Gus pointed out.

"I'm going to change my last name too," I continued dreamily, "and the new me will be called Amelia Marie. Isn't that nice?"

"Yeah... I actually see you more as Amelia Marie now," Jaqi positively said.

"Oh God, how can Ian eat so much?" Gus asked in disgust, looking past Jaqi and me. This was coming from _Gus_- who'd choose food over oxygen. Her and I followed Gus' gaze and saw Ian Kabra- the ruler of the school and captain of the rugby team. I told you lady luck had something against me. He was wolfing down a _lot_ of food. My face immediately soured at the sight of him.

"Er… hel_lo_? All he does is work out and eat, eat and work out. That guy is a live example of a 'meat head'," Jaqi said with distaste.

"Actually, that's not true. He's surprisingly good in maths, believe it or not, he also studies Further Mathematics outside school," Gus pointed out as-matter-of-factly, "but of course he'll never beat _me_ in math challenge". Jaqi rolled her eyes and flicked a piece of lettuce at Gus.

"Whatever, it still doesn't change the fact that he's a big ass," Jaqi retorted, ducking a piece lettuce thrown back at her. "I mean, you _have_ a huge ass Gus, but he _is_ a huge ass. Is there some sort of correlation between maths and ass? Oh look, it rhymes as well."

Gus held up his chubby but proud middle finger at Jaqi's face. He then looked at his watch and frowned. "Oh crap."

"What is it?" I asked stabbing my lettuce with the fork. I wasn't much of salad girl. My stomach growled for more dessert.

"We're going to be late for P.E," he mumbled in despair.

"Games aren't that bad" I said as all three of us stood up to put away our trays.

"Aren't bad? You don't have Ian Kabra threatening you every time you fail to do three laps. Mr Puck will probably resign soon, and I empathize with the poor teacher_. _Why don't you drop a word? Tell Ian his tactics are barbarous and highly unnecessary. Because I swear one day he will _eat_ me," he huffed. Jaqi frowned at Gus.

"Oh honey, it'll take three Ian Kabra's to eat you. And beside, like she can do anything about it! How can you say that? And what's more, three laps are good for you! When was the last time you saw your feet?" she scolded him mercilessly. Gus' face fell and I could've sworn he shrank under her commanding presence. Jaqi always made Gus lose weight because it was medically unhealthy. She used the carrot-and-stick method. Some days she would be sweet, and encouraging and helpful with him, but on other days she'd shout at him like there's no tomorrow. We both knew that it was out of concern. And no one except for her or I made fun of his...roundness.

"No it's fine, I'll tell him, that's not a problem. The problem really is whether he'll actually listen to me," I explained hesitantly. For Jaqi this was some kind of revelation.

"Really? Well then, while you're at it can you tell him to stop calling me lesbian? I mean I do have a short haircut, and I do hang out with a beautiful girl such as yourself, but I still like guys," she clarified bluntly.

"_Charming. _Wait, he called you a lesbian?"

I always believed Ian wasn't even aware of Jaqi's and Gus' existence. Anger and frustration began to stir inside me.

"When did he call you that?" I questioned fumingly. Jaqi began regretting for revealing this.

"Oh it doesn't matter. I'm kind of used to it by now I-"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? He's constantly calling you that?" I interrogated further.

We were now making our way to our changing rooms and Gus seemed to clear away from the conversation completely by trailing slowly behind us, bending his head trying to catch a glimpse of his feet. As the crowds moved around and shuffled amongst themselves, the star rugby players of the school came into the main hall and began throwing the ball amongst each other. The other insignificant members of the school began to scatter, intimidated by the dominating machos. Everyone dodged the rugby ball, probably more afraid of angering the players rather than parting with their heads.

"I didn't want to bother you with that. You have enough on your plate already. God, I'm regretting that I told you this, so badly right now," she said exasperatedly gripping her pixie hair for a dramatic effect.

"Okay fine, I won't pester you, just next time please let me know. I hate being ignorant. I will definitely have a chat with him tonight..." I mumbled angrily.

I heard someone shout a 'heads up' but a force hitting the side of my neck made me jolt forwards. I stumbled both pain and instant shock. I ended up crouching on the floor, holding my neck. I glared at the rugby ball through my blurred vision. I wondered if my injured nose from this morning fell off my face from this impact. There was once again the same old snickering, whispering, giggling and most of all, appalled staring. Jaqi jumped to my side, giving me enough support to stand up. I tried to smile and laugh it off. The attention was embarrassing. I wanted everyone to walk away and pretend that nothing happened. I wanted to disappear. Wasn't I humiliated enough already? Out of all the people, the rugby ball just _had_ to smash into me. I looked up to see Ian making his way towards me. A crowd formed a neat circle around me. I couldn't read his face. But did it really matter? This was just another average day of my somewhat pathetic life.

_**Hi.**_

**Okay, we've gone through the greetings, so let's just get straight to the point now. This story is basically a twisted Cinderella version, and will not have anything to do with the 39 Clues **_**hunt.**_** It's just about Ian and Amy. Capiche? Great!**

**I don't own anything that doesn't belong to me. **


	2. Knight in Boiling Anger

I need to mention something to you that I forgot to say. I live with the Kabras. Heh. Funny story actually. Isabel Kabra decided, 'Oh! Why don't we adopt one of those poor pathetic Cahills, and use her as our house maid?' So yeah. That's the story of my life. Dan was lucky enough to have a different family for adoption, while I was stuck with the Kabras. Kill. Me. Now.

The silence in the car was alien to me. Wait. Being _in_ Ian's car was alien to me. Usually he wouldn't even give a lift to Natalie, let alone me. But then again she had her own car, whereas I travelled back on public transport. I sat in the back of his Mercedes. The icepack was regularly sending chills down my spine, as it lay snug on my bruised neck. I tried to avoid Ian's gaze from the rear view mirror and yet I couldn't help but to sneak a peak. I replayed today's scenario in my head.

*_Earlier in the day*_

Ian finally came up and looked down on me. By the time he finally made his way, Jaqi managed to prop me up. Next words that Ian muttered I thought I'd imagined.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I really wasn't, but I didn't want to make a scene. So I tentatively nodded, smiling through pain.

"Did you throw that ball?" I asked shakily. Jaqi began to swear at him and rebuke him, but he astonishingly managed to ignore her completely, as if there was an invisible wall between her and him. Instead of replying he barked Francis' name. A guy shorter than Ian but equally bulky came through pushing apart the crowd and looked uneasy, but covered it with an unconcerned facade.

"He did," Ian said calmly, "apologize Francis". Was I hearing this correctly? His friends made little jokes and snide remarks to me since fifth grade. Now he was making one of them _apologize_? Behind Ian stood Destin, his closest friend who also happened to be the nicest one of the bunch.

Francis scoffed and shook his head at Ian's ludicrous demand.

"Come on Ian, you ain't serious, are you?" he said looking at him with discontent. Ian's furrowed his brows.

"Do I look like I'm cracking a shit joke? I said apologize," he said angrily. I began to get a bad feeling about this. Ian had a very bad temper if he was pushed to the edge, which didn't require much effort. Goose bumps ran across my skin as I've realized this could turn into something very nasty, and all because of me.

"What the hell is wrong with you man?" he snapped back, but after a quick thought he spat a venomous "_Sorry_" at me. He hated the fact that he was forced to apologize in public, confronted in front of an audience, more than the fact he was asked to apologize in the first place.

This hit a nerve and the next thing I know, Francis was viciously pinned against the lockers with a loud crash. He was lifted of the ground and his feet were banging against the lower lockers. Destin was trying to hold back Ian, urging him to calm down and telling him that none of this was worth it. I, to an extent agreed with Destin, it was an accident and the last thing I wanted was unwanted attention and trouble.

"Why the hell are you making such a big deal?" he yelled, withering underneath his monster grip.

"Because I asked you as a friend and a team player to do a simple thing. And she's part of my family and if you threw that ball just a bit harder and hit her head, there'd be a lot more than a bruised neck you fucking asshole," Ian seethed back. The coach ran up them, who in comparison were fairly small and insignificant in the scene.

"Okay you two, break it up now! Now! Ian, put him _down_" he yelled. For his size, the man had a pretty thunderous voice. "I'll see you both in my office, and until then, go and pent out your anger in the practice. Ten laps and eighty press-ups from both of you"

The crowd slowly began dispersing at the ring of the coaches' voice, digesting the current drama amongst them. Francis walked off heatedly swearing to himself and punched an open locker on his way. Few lads came up to Ian to ask if he was all right, even though it was Francis who got pinned onto the lockers. Destin gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving in the same direction as the rest of the team players. Guess they held their allegiance to their captain. I had a pretty good feeling that they won't be teasing me ever again. Few people came up to ask if I was all right and I gave a reassuring nod.

"I hope that answered your question," Ian said casually. His changes in mood were shocking. I wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question, but I nodded anyway, just in case.

"Thanks for -you know, you didn't have to-"

"Make sure you see the nurse," he said before heading towards the men's lockers. Gus and Jaqi stared at me with utter disbelief.

"That was _totally_ hot," Jaqi said fanning herself frivolously with her hand. I meekly smiled. I was coming back from my daze. Maybe this wasn't so out of ordinary. He does have a heart after all, and it was true, if that the ball did critically injure me, his favourite sport would be frowned upon. I couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his defence than just saving a name and reputation, and the honour of his family.

"Who would've guessed? He does have a heart," Gus said, "are you okay? He told you to go and see the nurse"

I wasn't used to arriving back home so soon, since I took three buses to get back.

"Thank you for the ride," I said getting out the car. Natalie pushed the door impatiently and muttered an incensed "_Finally,_" under her breath much to Ian's annoyance. I made my way upstairs to get changed. Jerome, the house butler greeted the three of us and I smiled back, knowing I'll be helping him with house chores later, along with Milla, the house-maid. Jerome and Milla happened to be closer to me than Isabel Kabra, Ian and Natalie put together, since they've been in this household at the time my mother and father were alive and I was still sucking on my thumb.

After a quick shower and change of clothes I was greeted by Isabel's sour expression.

"Isabel, how are you?" I asked in a formal voice, just the way she liked it. She raised her tattooed brow and with her bony finger moved my chin to the right.

"Did you receive a kiss from a boy?" she asked mockingly, looking at my neck. I shook my head.

"No ma'am, I was in a small accident in school," I replied hastily.

"Pity. Anyway, I need you to sort out Natalie's winter clothes after dinner, keep the ones you like, with her permission of course and throw away the rest, or give to charity, whatever. I'll also need you to tend the garden with Milla since the gardener is sick. As _if_, it's just a minor cold" she said offhandedly walking away.

Our gardener has been in bed with tonsillitis and flu for the past week…

"Yes ma'am" I said with fatigue. I wasn't tempted to groan, to moan, to curse or self-pity. Really. I learned to hold that back a long time ago and realized that nothing good would come of it. It didn't help or change anything. In fact, it added more chores on top of it. So I rushed to dinner to fill in my stomach as much as possible.

It wasn't like Isabel to be late for dinner, but when she did enter the dining room, there was foreign glee in her cold, piercing eyes.

"Natalie, look at this," she said barely holding back the enthusiasm in her voice. Natalie took a minute to read what seemed like an invitation, plated with gold with letters embedded. It also had the royal seal.

"His Highness is holding a ball in honour of the Crown Prince Alexis Charmant's return?" she squealed in her seat. God, must they say his name and the title and everything?

"That's right, by his order of his majesty, all the young bachelorettes must attend. Of course royalty or nouveau riche only," she explained taking a rather large sip of wine. I could've sworn Natalie literally lit up, her hair going shinier than ever and her eyes sparkling with a dollar sign on each eye. They began discussing what she must wear, and where to book an appointment for her nails and where to could she make herself look remotely less plastic by adding more plastic. Was that even possible? Ian was bored with the conversation and silently wolfed down his food.

"Ian you're coming too," Isabel said coolly. He nearly choked all the food back out and glared at his mother.

"No. I'm not," he rebuked. She frowned at him immediately.

"Yes you are. Don't forget, his sister, young crown princess Adele Charmant of France will also be attending the ball. And who could resist my young, handsome son. You _are _after all the Duke of Bordeaux," she said proudly, grabbing his chin

Ian knew that arguing with his mother would be futile and would anger her too, so with a miserable face he slouched back in his seat, no longer eating his dinner.

My mind was debating with itself. I gripped the spoon and carefully listened to the conversation, waiting for the moment to speak. But my mouth was faster than my mind.

"May I go to the ball?" I blurted out.

All three outraged faces turned to stare at me.


	3. Princess With A Passion For Fashion

"What?" Isabel asked through her clenched teeth. Her cold eyes seemed to lose any sign of human kindness. I felt myself shrinking under her penetrating stare. I began fidgeting with the flower-patterned napkin. And yet in my frozen state, through my parched mouth I still managed to speak up.

"I-I said, could I go to the ball as well? Please… the invitation does say all young bachelorettes right? And after all, I'm young and… single" I said shakily. Natalie's glare was burning into my forehead as I looked at Isabel. There was a very loud silence in the room until with a small, forced smile Isabel spoke up.

"Very well Amy… you may go to the-"

"_What_?" the two siblings yelped, with Natalie's voice being four pitches higher and ten decibels louder. Isabel responded with a glare at both siblings and then looked back at me.

"You may go if you finish all the chores set to you by that time" she said coolly and an involuntary smile began spreading through my face. "As I've said before, you are to sort out Natalie's clothes, clean the basement with all of Ian's sporting equipment as well as his trophy case. I would like that Turkish carpet cleaned by hand and all the windows in the central hall"

"But I washed the carpet only two weeks ago" I said incredulously. Midway of sipping her tea she shrugged.

"Then you shouldn't have trouble doing again then" she replied. My smile receded. There was no way I'd be finished in time, considering the amount of school work I had to catch up with. My shoulders slumped and I tried not to show my disappointment, as I knew it'd bring Isabel and Natalie more pleasure. But I couldn't help it.

"May I be excused from dinner so I can start on my chores?" I murmured brokenly. She raised her brow in delight.

"You've barely touched your food," she said. My eyes caught Ian's, and he warningly shook his head slowly. I didn't know what his message was, and I didn't care. I no longer wanted to be in the presence of their company.

"I'm not hungry any more," I said and with a quick bow I left the dinning room hastily. As I stepped out, the atmosphere seemed to freshen because usually the air around Isabel was constantly felt like it was filled with poison.

My heart sank as I've realized that any time soon, I'll trip into the bottomless sea of Natalie's clothes, get tangled and straggled and left to die without attending the ball. The amount of old clothes Natalie had was eye watering. Some of them were lovely, but there was no point in keeping them since I was too proud to wear her designer leftovers and because even if I did keep them, I'd have nowhere to wear them in the first place. I looked at the clock. It's been two hours since I started sorting the piles of clothes and my tummy growled. I ignored it and imagined the ball, the food, the famed French desserts. That seemed to satisfy my stomach for now. I heard footsteps and I guessed it was either Milla coming to help Isabel, to check up on my work or me. It was neither.

"Ian? Is there anything you need?" I asked as he stood on the doorway, looking disgusted at the amount of clothes on the floor and me, nestling in the middle of it. He was holding a plate of food and my noisy stomach decided to have a voice in this conversation.

"Why did you leave the table? You haven't eaten. How the hell were you planning on ploughing through the chores with a hungry stomach?" he answered my question with his scolding questions.

"Is that why you were shaking your head at the table?" I inquired with curiosity.

"Yes!" he snapped. He walked towards me, kicking the clothes out of his way. "Here, eat" he commanded. The plate had a generous portion of creamy mash potato, several slices of turkey covered with gravy and some kind of salad on the side. He handed me the fork and I didn't need to be asked twice. I dug in instantly. I was busy eating, in fact too busy to care about Ian's scrutinizing stare. I knew I'd get snide remarks and comments later for this, but I was grateful for the food nonetheless.

"All this for some crap ball?" he said looking around. I ignored his commentary and moved on to eat the third slice. "Girls" he muttered sourly and stood up to leave.

"Thank you" I said softly through my half-full mouth. He glanced back at me and disregarding my gratitude, left the room. I heard Natalie begging Ian to give her a lift in the hallway. His gruff voice replied, refusing to give her a lift, because he knew she'd be drinking without her car.

"God you're so annoying Ian!" Natalie shouted down the corridor as she stood in the doorway. She saw me and frowned. "You're still cleaning up these?" she asked. I sighed and placed my empty plate on a table.

"Yes, I should be finished in an hour or so…" I said hesitantly. She was wearing a horrendous white dress that made her look like a balloon.

"I need your advice on something," she said before putting her hands on her hips. I gawked at her.

"With what?" I asked. What advice could I possibly give to this spoilt brat? She cautiously stepped into the room and caught her reflection in the mirror that stood by the bedside.

"Erm… fashion I guess," she said nonchalantly as she turned around in different directions to see herself from various angles. I raised my brows in disbelief. The girl who's Bible was Vogue was going to ask me for advice? I was pretty sure she was here to mock my advice. She saw my bewildered stare and clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"Look, stop staring at me like that. Just tell me, honestly, does this look good on me?" she asked unsurely. Although I could see the dress looking quite flattering on a different figure, I knew Natalie could do so much better; after all, I'm the one who has to sort out her wardrobe.

"Honestly?" I confirmed with an 'are-you-sure-you-can-handle-honestly' tone. She pursued her lips and stood above me impatiently.

"_Yes_" she hissed.

"You look bad…in that dress… I mean you lose the shape of your figure, and the awful, faded white does not go well with your… black hair or your current make-up," I said, carefully choosing my words. I didn't want to come of as too harsh, but wanted to sound as honest as possible, which at most times was harder than you'd think. If you're brutally honest, you're suddenly become a 'bitch', and if you're dishonest…well you're still a bitch, in disguise. The best way to go about is to have a constructive criticism. Considering the fact that I was giving advice to the prissy Queen Bee, I thought my criticism wasn't half bad.

Natalie looked at herself in the mirror and then looked down at the dress in disgust. "I see," she said after a moment's thought.

"Why do you ask?" I said, folding her clothes back into the closet. She looked at me, mentally debating with herself as to whether I'm worth telling or not.

"My so called 'friends' think I should totally wear this tonight, to Craig's party. They've been throwing all the synonyms of pretty and nice the entire day. And here you are telling me I look like a freakin' idiot"

Well, so much for my efforts for a constructive criticism. How did 'lost the shape of your figure' become a 'freakin' idiot'?

"You don't look like an idiot," I hastily corrected.

"Those bitches think I'm a fool. That just because all of them said I look good in it, I would actually listen to them and go along with this monstrosity," she said gripping the hems of the dress in fury. I pitied her at that moment. Having such lying friends should be treated like a curse. "I tried it on to look at it again…with tiny hope inside me that maybe it does look good…maybe they saw it from a quirky perspective or something…turns out they were nothing but shallow and envy-driven words," she said talking to her mirror image.

"Why did you come to me then?" I asked. She snapped out of her thoughts, realizing that I was still in the room. She pursed her lips but hesitantly went on.

"You don't have a clue about fashion or latest trends…but I know you're good when it comes to honesty which as I've realized, you don't find much today and has more value than any fashion trend," she said uneasily, swallowing her pride. I gave her a small smile.

"Thanks" I replied as I picked up another pile of clothes. She flicked her hair and with a last, despising look in the mirror she began to leave the room.

"Leave the rest of the clothes, I want to sort them out myself, like I said, you have no sense of fashion, I don't want you to throw out something valuable," she said with distaste. "Oh and by the way, you totally deserved that detention in Mr. Pierre's class".


	4. Mighty Midnight

**Okay! Here's a special chapter with for you with Amy and Ian! Enjoy! **

The watch tauntingly chimed when the minute hand hit three o'clock. I looked out of the window onto the garden, which I've been tending for the past five hours. My body ached and the small cuts and blisters burned my hands. I let out a long sigh and made my way downstairs. I heard the front door open and saw Ian entering. He didn't see me standing on the staircase, since the night blackened most of the mansion. He made his way straight to the kitchen, which was bizarre, since the kitchen was usually the place only the cooks and I inhibited.

I stood in the doorway, peering into the kitchen. He seemed to be looking for something vigorously, opening all the cabinets and shelves. He cursed under his breath.

"Is there anything you need?" I asked. He stopped for a moment, my voice probably surprised him, but he didn't turn around.

"Nothing, go to sleep," he mumbled avoiding to look at me. I was going to turn around and leave, until I saw his bleeding knuckle. I walked up to him boldly and turned him around. His head turned to look at me and there was a cut on his cheek and his lip was bleeding.

"Ian, what happened?" I asked in shock and immediately began looking for the first aid kit. Although I could already guess, he got into a fight with someone at the party.

"Nothing! I told you to go to sleep! It's none of your business!" he said heatedly, but I stubbornly looked for the first aid kit. In frustration he slammed the shelf door and began to leave the kitchen.

"Wait! Ian! That could get infected, let me disinfect it at least," I said grabbing him by the arm and waving the green, plastic first aid kit in front of him.

"I don't need your aid kits, it'll heal on it's own. It's not my first time getting into a fight," he grumbled. I let out an incredulous laugh.

"Then why were you looking for the first aid kit?" I asked, holding up the box tauntingly.

"I wasn't looking for the aid kit, I was looking for food, I'm starving," he pointed out. Right, here's a guy with a bleeding face and knuckles and all he can think about it food? Oh. I forgot this was Ian we're talking about.

"Okay," I said, taken back by his priorities, "how about I bandage your hand and then make a quick midnight snack, like stir fried noodles?" I suggested. He thought about for a moment, torn apart between his manly pride and his stomach. The growling in his stomach gave him away and he plopped on the chair stretching out his hand. I sat down opposite him and took his hand.

I took out a bottle of a strong disinfecting cleanser, blue tube of healing gel, some cotton buds and a bandage.

I poured the strong disinfectant and it burned my nose when I breathed. I saw his eye twitch; I could imagine the burning pain therefore gently blew on the wound to let the liquid evaporate quicker.

I dipped some cotton bud and patted his knuckles lightly. Ian had a huge anger management problem, though it got better over the years, with rugby being his relief, sometimes if he did snap, his anger comes out as a pretty bloodcurdling physical chaos. I shuddered just thinking about what happened to the poor fellow who crossed Ian.

He laid his head on his hand and observed closely as I cleaned the wound. I looked at him staring at my hands, and to be honest, it made me feel quite nervous. Our faces were so close together; it was hushed, peaceful and very cosy.

I mentally smiled; his face didn't change much since he was kid, at least, to me. He would have these cute moments where he would find something interesting and would silently, patiently observe it. Once he sat for an hour watching a butterfly in kindergarten. I was tempted to stroke his hair for some freakish reason. He just lay there like a puppy, sitting still and watching me.

He suddenly grabbed my hands, making me snap from my reverie. He observed the cuts and blisters on my hands and cocked his eyebrow.

"Looks like you can use some disinfectants too," he said and grabbed the bottle with his now bandaged hand. I couldn't help but hold my breath. It was bizarre, him holding my hand. It was too quiet, it was nighttime, it was just the two of us, the scenery just screamed romantic. More reasons to make me nervous. I sat rigid as he patted my hands and flinched the antiseptic began its work. He gently blew on it too…and held onto my hands even when he finished. The ticking of the clock, which in daytime was barely audible, was currently making a lot of noise.

Ian was probably doing this because he was drunk. This would've never happened in his sober state. He would've stubbornly left the room without letting me touch him.

"Thanks," I muttered immediately pulling away. I couldn't hear what I muttered because my heart was beating so loud in my ears. This wasn't the first time we've had these moments, but they were very rare. Most of the time, Ian liked to pretend that I didn't exist and Natalie liked to remind me of the fact that my life _is_ worth ignoring.

"Right… food," I whispered to myself, gathering the ingredients. I was so wrapped up in my search for food that I didn't realize Ian stood right next to me. I bumped into him clumsily and immediately pushed away. His didn't seem to be bothered by it.

"What can I help with?" he mumbled tiredly. I looked at him for a moment and like a fool, smiled. I took some tomatoes and onions, handing them over to the currently bemused Ian.

"You can chop these while I start frying the chicken, and then when I start frying the noodles we'll pop in the vegetables," I said expertly and his face sunk even further.

Hey, if I get an opportunity to be aided, why not use it?

He took out a knife and a chopping board and began to chop halfheartedly. There was a comfortable silence and Ian's concentrated facial expression was priceless.

In a matter of minutes, the chicken was golden and ready. I jumped as Ian slammed the knife against the board.

"Stupid tomatoes!" he growled, I looked down the tomatoes... or at least what was left of them. The vegetables turned into mush and his hands were covered in tomato juice. I could no longer take it and burst out laughing. His baffled expression, his hands soaked up in tomato and the whole scene of him standing on the kitchen counter made it hilarious to look at. He looked up at me with a frown, but then couldn't help it and scoffed at himself, washing his hands.

"That's fine," I said regaining my composure and spilling all the contents from the wooden board onto the frying pan.

After our meal was prepared, we sat down to eat. Ian ate, no; he _vacuumed_ his entire plate, moving onto the seconds. I wasn't even hungry; I sat watching in awe, sipping some tea. I looked at the watch and my heart sank. It was already close to five o'clock in the morning and I wasn't even halfway through my chores.

"Why do you want to go to that ball anyway? You don't even know the prince…you probably can't dance to save your life either…" he asked reading my mind, looking back at the clock. I sighed and poured myself another cup of tea.

"Well _I_ am a girl, with a _dream_. I want to meet the prince; I think I have as much chance of falling in love as any other girl. Also, the ball is the event of the decade. I wouldn't want to miss something like that. I've always dreamed of visiting that castle…" I trailed off, wondering if I've said too much and whether he actually cared. He listened closely and then sighed, but said nothing in response. After he finished his seconds I stood up and began taking the plates away. He too, stood up and took the plates from my hands.

"Go, I'll wash the dishes. I think you have enough on your plate already," he said with an awful pun but making me grin like a Cheshire cat nonetheless.

"Are you sure? I-It's not a problem it'll only take me-"

"Go before I change my mind. If you want to make it to the ball, I think you need to get moving with your chores."

"Thanks…" I said, trying to hide the sudden disappointment. I've realized that even if somehow miraculously I manage to finish all the chores by tomorrow, there'll be no time to get myself ready for such a grand event. I had no dress, no ideas for hair or make-up. Compared to Natalie, I would look like a peasant and be denied entry to the ball.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for this," he said briskly holding up his bandaged hand. I nodded and murmured a goodnight and was making my way up the stairs. For a very brief moment I thought that maybe Ian wasn't that bad, and in fact had a very controlled temperament after all…

"Stupid _plates_!" I heard him roar and that was followed by a loud bang of the china.

Like I said, the thought came for a _very_ brief moment.

**Simply out of curiosity, did anyone pick up that Amy's friends had the same names as the two mice in the actual **_**Cinderella**_** movie? Just a little notification for you. **


	5. Devastated Duke

**Okay! Here's a nice long chapter for you, and make sure you read the author's note at the bottom!**

Feyrie Marraine stood with a blank expression on her face. As the family PR and manager, she encountered a lot of whims from the ruthless Kabra family. This was probably the most bizarre request she'd ever heard.

"Let me get this straight. Amy wants to go to the ball. You got her this dress, this mask and the shoes. You want me to give them to her, without her knowing that in fact it's you giving her this stuff," she confirmed. Ian's patience was visibly thinning.

"For God's sake, yes Fey, that's exactly what I want. Make sure she gets to the ball, and I had nothing to do with this," he almost barked. Fey looked at the beautiful, laced ball gown. The mask matched the dress and was embedded with crimson crystals. She hasn't seen the shoes yet.

"Okay fine, whatever, weirdo. May I have a look at the shoes? What if they mismatch the outfit?" Fey said, curiosity burning up inside her. Even Natalie didn't have such amazing clothes. Ian rolled his eyes and opened the blue box.

"They can't mismatch any outfit, they don't have color," he mumbled and took out two beautifully carved, crystal clear shoes. Fey's mouth parted in awe as he showed them to her.

"Oh my God… that's Swarovski crystal…" she breathed, touching one of the shoes.

"Not purely. It's fused with material strong enough to withhold weight and damage. In other words they are very hard to break, and comfy on the feet. Or at least that's what they told me," he said with apathetically.

"Where did you get these?" she asked with a hungry gleam in her eye.

"There are only ten of these made, each is one million euro, sold privately by the owner of Swarovski himself."

"Damn. Limited edition," Fey breathed. "When are you finally going to crack your shell and your massive ego, and actually show Amy that you care for her, instead of doing sweet things anonymously. She'd be delighted to know that you got this for her. Get a life, would you?"

Ian shook his head. There's no way in a million years he was ready to be the 'nice guy' for Amy. Not after the amount of bullying he put her through in the past, due to his own misunderstood, immature grudges. Besides, a blind man could see she'd never be interested in him. She wants to meet her own prince charming, like she said. The most Ian could do, is make her happy from the shadows. Whatever it took, he'd make sure he'd see her happy at least once in a while, in their vile household.

"No, don't tell her. Her and I just aren't meant to be."

"That's really cheesy Ian, whatever you say lover boy," Fey said, "but you know, if you weren't so scared of coming out of your cold demeanor, I think she'd give you a chance."

"It's not about my cold demeanor, it's the fact that she's sick of seeing us and in her eyes I see, that she craves freedom more than anything else. I don't want to stand between that. Besides, my mother would eat her and me alive if she detects any hints of intimacy. I don't want to put Amy through _that_ either," he said. Fey shook her head and packed away the shoes.

"What_ever_ you say," she mumbled. Ian stood up and nodded his head.

"Thanks Fey. Make sure she has a good night. I'll probably see her there," he said and left the room.

Feyrie didn't understand the paradox between Ian's confident prowess and his silly fear of getting close to any girl. Especially the one he's liked for so long. His one-night stands with the hottest babes in school might satisfy his body, but not his heart.

Natalie looked fabulous. I didn't expect anything less. However, she was annoyed with the fact that masquerade ball required masks. To hide her pretty, made-up face of course. Her dress was studded with numerous sequences. Her hair was beautifully pinned upwards with various kinds of flowers embedded into her blonde locks. Ian too looked incredibly handsome. This was not the first time I saw him in a tux, but it has been a while. I stood there with a mop on one hand, wiping away the sweat from my brow with the other.

"Amy, it's a shame you didn't manage to finish chores in time, there really wasn't much to do," Isabel said, without a hint of irony in her voice. I just pursed my lips and nodded quietly.

Three years ago, I would've put up a fight. Just now I've realized it's hopeless to fight. There was some kind of smile playing on Ian's lips as he watched his mother and Natalie looked away, pretending I wasn't even here.

"Yeah," I said dryly before picking up the bucket. "Have fun." I muttered before leaving the hall.

"You too," Ian murmured loud enough only for me to hear. I frowned and looked at him in disgust. There he goes again, with his idiotic mood swings, one moments he's sweet and the other he's an ass.

I hoped he would slip on the floor and break a leg while waltzing. I wanted to retort, but I was powerless against any of them. And I didn't understand why Ian decided to become an asshole again. I shook my head and put away the mop and the bucket.

Nothing made me feel better than a nice hot shower. My body was aching but at least all the chores were now finished. I sighed and closed my eyes as the hot droplets created funny sensations on my face. There was a sudden knock on the door that intruded into my reverie.

I came out and wrapped myself in a towel. I stayed silent for a moment, wondering who on earth could it be. We had the butler and the guard outside the mansion, so it couldn't be a psycho killer could it?

"Amy it's me! Fey!" the family's manager yelled into the door, followed by another loud bang.

I opened the door warily and gave a timid smile.

"Hey, what's up?" I said as I came out of the steamed bathroom.

"No time for chit chat, I'm here to make your dream come true!" she said before grabbing my arm and sitting me down. "Quickly put on some underwear _now"_

Fey turned around and I did as I was told.

"What dream?" I asked as I fished for my underwear.

"You're going to the ball!" she yelled in glee. Oh God, not the ball. My heart sank at the mention of it.

"Fey, what are you talking about? I've missed it. They've gone and I'm staying here," I mumbled. "Stop rubbing it in please, I'm trying to get over it and you're not helping."

I stood in my bra and underwear, but before I could sit back down on the bed Fey took out a ball gown that took my breath away. It was long, white and was made up of many complicated patterns and laces. The corset was firm and decorated with fine embroidery.

"F-Fey where did you get this?" I gasped.

"Don't ask. Just wear it! Here's a mask and here are the shoes. Now get changed quickly so I can do your hair and make-up".

This must've been some kind of sick joke. I looked at the clothes in awe, as they lay sprawled across the bed. The shoes looked surreal and reflected the light straight into my eyes.

"Did you get this all for me?" I asked meekly. Fey had a moment of thought. She then shook her head.

"It really doesn't matter. I'll explain it all to you after you tell me about the ball."

I suddenly got an adrenaline rush at the though that I might actually make it to the ball after all. Without question I slipped into the dress, which perfectly hugged my body and carefully stepped into the glass slippers.

Ian was already used to the lust filled and coy glances ladies sent his way. Some were old enough to be his mother and some were out past their bedtime. He tugged onto the tie that was choking him and placed his unfinished champagne on the table. He hated it.

What he needed was a good pint of beer and a remote control.

"Well, I'm really _not_ glad to see you here," a voice broke out behind him. By the way ladies were bowing, Ian smirked, knowing he was now in the presence of a prince. He turned around, and sure enough there he was, tall and proud, with a golden crown resting on his head.

"Alexis Charmant of France," Ian muttered with another confident smirk. The prince after greeting all the ladies that gathered around them both, smirked back.

"Duke of Bordeaux, Ian Kabra. Enjoying the party?" he said taking a sip of his champagne.

"Nope," Ian replied coolly. The tension was thick between them, as they both remembered their last encounter.

"I see, well I would say that's unfortunate, but the truth is, I really couldn't give two shits. Do I also get the pleasure of seeing Lady Natalie Kabra and the Grand Duchess Isabel Kabra?" he asked blithely.

"Certainly. Speaking of the devils," Ian muttered as his mother's wide grin came into view. His mother and sister were practically gliding towards the prince as if there was a magnet stuck up his ass. As their ever-consuming presence distracted Alexis, Ian took that as his cue to escape. He looked at the entrance and sure enough, right on time, there she was. Timidly poking in her head in, holding onto the marble column, Amy observed the surroundings.

He smiled to himself. He knew she'd be this beautiful in that gown, in those killer heels and that grand mask that hid the timorous but fresh beauty behind it. He made his way towards her and saw her eyes widen in shock.

_Play it cool Ian._

"Miss, are you being accompanied by anyone tonight?" he asked, giving a little bow. She seemed to be frozen in one spot until after a moment of thought, she visibly relaxed. Ian was smiling inside. This was just too easy. She thinks that he has no idea of who she really is. This was perfect. So, wetting her lips, she finally found her voice.

"N-No sir."

"Then may I have this dance?" Ian asked silkily. She shakily stretched out her hand and couldn't contain that small smile of glee forming around her plump lips.

"What's your name?" was his first question. He was eager to know just how good Amy was good at lying.

"I-It's Amelia Marie," she said in almost a whisper, afraid of revealing her identity through the sound of her voice. To his annoyance, she also avoided his gaze and was as stiff as a stick while they swayed to the music.

"You look beautiful tonight, Miss Marie," Ian said. It felt good to have his hand around her waist. He would only dream of this in his sweetest, shortest dreams.

"Thank you," she muttered shyly and looked in another direction. She curiously looked at the people, at the food, at the castle. There was twinkle of amazement in her eyes. He loved the look of astonishment on her face.

Ian couldn't understand why was he content only around her. What power did have over him, that no other girl did?

How is it that this girl managed to take so much crap from him and his family, and managed to stay sturdy and soft at the same time? Sometimes she looks so vulnerable and frail, and yet she endured so much.

Ian could only look at her. The sea of women didn't matter. Only she did.

"I'm in love with you," he blurted out, without even registering the statement in his brain. She stiffed and finally looked at him wide eyed. The mask was covering nearly the whole of her face, leaving only those golden pupils and the luscious kissable lips out on the open.

What would happen if he kissed her right now?

"I'm sorry?"

"What? You don't believe in love at first sight?" he asked. Giving a moment of thought, she couldn't help but give an incredulous chuckle.

"No, I don't believe in such a thing," she said softly. The music stopped and there was a wave of applause that echoed around the grand halls and bounced of the marble walls.

Ian leaned in and was about to do something he should have done a long time ago.

Something once again, he only dreamed of.

"May I have this dance?"

I snapped out at the sound of a young man's voice. But I still looked at Ian. He was about to kiss me? He just confessed his love to me? He doesn't even know me! Well, technically. With this disguise, who the hell would even recognize me? Who knew he would be such a romantic?

I could've sworn Ian growled as this young man came up.

Hold on. A crown? I swallowed before opening my mouth.

"Prince Alexis Charmant of France?" I asked meekly as Ian and him had a stare off.

"Indeed," he said and finally with a smirk he stopped glaring at Ian and turned his attention to me, "how do you do?"

"Fine your majesty," I said robotically. My head was in a buzz. The picture of Ian, in his black mask, his amber eyes, leaning to me was flashing in my mind and I couldn't shake it off. The weird thing was, I wanted that moment to continue.

"Well? May I have this dance?" he asked again. Ian decided to answer for me.

"We're busy," he said with in a threatening manner.

"Actually, I was asking her. After all, this is a ball where I choose my fiancée. For all I know, you might be holding her at this very moment," the prince chided. Ian's jaw tightened and I could feel his anger rise.

For all he knew, Ian was ready to smash his head against a wall.

"You know I've nearly ripped your head off once, would you like me to do it again?" he growled.

I gently placed my hand on Ian's chest and gave a light push to snap him out of his beastly mode.

"Yes your highness," I said and took Alexis' hand. The prince's lips stretched into a victorious grin. He led me away and I looked behind to see Ian standing in anger and regret. I gave a small reassuring smile and looked away.

Prince Alexis Charmant was exactly what his surname meant. He was charming. But I wasn't sure if I liked his charm. It was arrogance that appeared to be his charm.

"Aren't we dancing?" I asked as he led me away from the dance floor. There were whispers that once again bounced around the ballroom. People stopped dancing but the music continued.

"We are, but I'm taking you to dance in the garden," he said as he confidently led the way, keeping a firm grip on my hand. The famed royal garden came into view and the ground that was surrounded by many forms of green was glowing.

"Okay," I said, slightly confused but simultaneously thrilled. I wouldn't have to dance in front of those people. He chuckled.

"You do know what this means right? Me taking you to the garden?" he asked as I looked around at the people that stopped talking.

"No, what does it mean?"

"Means I've chosen my fiancée."

**Author's Note:**

**Heh. I decided to be mean today. Cliffhanger! (Evil smile)**

**I have some… depressing news. Well, I'm not actually sure if it's depressing cause I might not go through with it… well, I mean if… Argh, never mind. The point it, I'm leaving tomorrow to Indonesia for my Spring holiday, and I **_**might **_**not be able to update in a while.**

**But I'm not sure, because my mum just got a new laptop, and it might not have Microsoft Word on it… Oh, and did I mention that the trip is for three weeks? (Weak smile)**

**Well, other than that, I might as well as clarify some things with you. The name 'Feyrie' is pronounced as fairy. Ha. Get it? And if you didn't understand the part when Amy was saying that the prince's surname meant exactly what it said, then put the name Prince Alexis Charmant** **in the translator and categorize it French.**

**So I think that's it, and happy holidays everyone!**


	6. Earl of Engagement Part 1

_**Thank you to Lapulta for helping, and everyone else who reviewed!**_

_**Cinderella – Cheetah Girls**_

My chuckle was swallowed by the silence of the garden.

"What's so funny?" the prince murmured in amusement as his hand snaked around my waist and the other grabbed by hand. His hand slid down further south but I grabbed his hand in time. I could not believe he just tried to touch my butt. This was supposed to be a scene from Disney, not American Pie…

"It's funny because you just implied that I'm your chosen fiancée," I said trying not to laugh anymore. The prince was equally amused.

"I know, it is funny. I wasn't planning on settling down until tonight," he said as we swayed to the music that slowly started up through the speakers that were nowhere to be seen. My body was now swaying by itself while my brain was finding it difficult to apprehend the newly given data.

"Wait, you're actually serious right? This isn't a prank? Where are the cameras and videos? I threw questions, still trying to decide whether this was a joke or reality. He chuckled and his grip around my waist tightened.

"This isn't a joke. You think this whole ball in my honour is all a prank to be pulled for one girl?" he asked mirthfully. I had to stop. The news already made my head spin, I didn't need to be swayed to the music any further.

"I-I-I'm your fiancée?" I barely managed to spit the words out. He smirked.

"I hope you were stammering from happiness," he commented. My shoulders sank.

"But I don't know you."

"Well, we've got a whole life ahead of us to get to know each other. And besides, didn't you come to this ball to get chosen? This ball was made for ready brides. Are you an imposter?" he asked, getting disappointed at the fact that I wasn't squealing with glee.

"N-No I just…don't know what to say," I breathed as he smirked arrogantly, finally getting his long awaited breath taken response.

"Don't say anything. Let your pretty face do the talking," he murmured as he reached out to take my mask. I got hold of his hand and his fingers were inches away from the mask. He arched his brow.

"I would really like to see your face, future wifey," he said. I took a step backwards and gave a small smile.

"Wait, does this mean if I marry you… I get to leave my house?" I asked and felt my fingertips sweating from anticipation. "As in leave the family?"

"You don't have to. Until the actual wedding ceremony, your family gets to stay at the palace. Then you take up your duties as the Princess and as my wife," he explained. I shook my head.

"We'll be married. You do understand that? We're teenagers, this really is early," I tried to reason, pushing away the flashing images of the castle, the white dress, the cake, the ceremony, the jealous faces of the Kabras out of my mind. I realized as we were talking, I unconsciously took tiny steps backwards as he was towering over me. I softly squashed against the bushes.

"Look, to be honest, I don't want to go through the whole crap of falling in love again and making plans. This ball means I have to find a wife whether I like or not, on the orders of my father and I chose you whether you like it or not," his tone dropped and his eyes hardened. After realizing that his voice was very intimidating, he brightened up and touched my mask. "Besides, we're not teenagers. We're aristocrats," he said with a smile. I noticed that his smile was a sad one.

I took off my mask and gave a small smile. He stared at me in silence, too busy observing my revealed identity. "Well, no wonder Ian was so smitten by you, Miss Marie."

I shook my head. "What are you talking about? He didn't even know who I was or what I look like, under this disguise," I explained.

"Whatever it was, I know he was smitten by you, I could tell by his hungry eyes," he said. "I'm glad I took you away, tell Ian what a wonderful night we had when you see him."

This time I frowned. "You know, I really think you're mistaken about Ian. And also, it was a nice night and this is all so surreal, but if you're so sure that he likes me, why would I rub my engagement to his face?"

I doubt Ian would even care in the first place. He smirked haughtily. "Because I get you first. Snatch you right under his nose, I win."

My lips parted in shock. "So I'm some kind of trophy? You're ready to marry someone out of spite? Are you out of your mind?" I asked, my tone a pitch higher with every question.

"Of course, what's wrong with that? There's a reason why I'm a _prince_," he stated with blatancy. My jaw tightened and I stomped away after giving him a light shove on the shoulder.

Marrying out of spite was something I stood against. What the hell was Alexis Charmant thinking by blurting out irrational statements about Ian's infatuation? Maybe he did have some nasty history with Ian, but he knew nothing about _me_.

"Sugar, come back, you'll break those pretty heels of yours. If we're going to get married, you might as well obey your future husband," he called out.

Furiously, I took off one of my shoes and threw it at him. It was very close to hitting him and his eyes were as wide as saucers as he dodged it. I took the other shoe in my hand and made a run for it. The dress was uncomfortable and I heard material rip as I took vigorous steps. I didn't care. It was twelve o'clock. Fey was supposed to be waiting for me outside the gate. I needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

As I managed to reach the gate, I don't think I've ever welcomed the sight of Fey's car dutifully waiting for me as I did today.

I dived in. "_Go_!"

Without further questions she sharply turned and sped away deep into the night. I was catching my breath and holding onto my shoe.

"You know, I'm too scared to ask what the hell has happened," Fey said, glancing at me worriedly. I closed my eyes and breathed heavily.

"I can't believe I threw my shoe at the prince just now…"

"You _what_?" Fey shrieked, "girl, have you lost your mind along with your shoe?"

"You don't understand, he was so arrogant and full of himself. He just decided that I'll become his fiancée because he felt like taking me away from Ian, who by the way just danced once with me, he didn't even know it was me. Tonight I was Amelia Marie, not Amy Cahill."

Fey raised her brow and shook her head as she looked to the road ahead.

"Well whether you're Amelia Marie or Amy Cahill, your ass it still one and the same. And that ass is now engaged to the Prince of France. At whom you by the way, you threw limited edition of Swarovski shoes!"

I sunk deeper into the leather seat and sighed, rubbing the respiration off my forehead. "Going to the ball was a bad idea… but you now, he'll never know that it was me. I didn't reveal my name. Sure he saw my face, but he won't find me, he'll have to go through whole of France. I'm not on the guest list, so my identity is hidden," I explained, calming myself down.

Also, knowing the Prince, I highly doubted he'd go through the trouble to look for some girl he randomly picked. He could have any other girl in the world.

Though I must admit, as I've realized, if the prince doesn't find me, I'm stuck with my family.

The more I thought about, the more I realized I'd rather marry that idiot and fulfill my dreams in the royal family than stay under the same roof as the Kabra family.

But that option was now closed. It closed as soon as my hand let go of that blasted shoe. And it didn't even hit him.

"Well sugar, we'll just have to wait and see what happens tomorrow. And for some reason, I don't think it'll be just your another average day…"

_**Author's Note:**_

_**So… I'm back!**_

_**And I've posted up another chapter!**_

_**Wow.**_

_**I just am just on a roll with pointing out the obvious today. My apologizes if this chapter isn't a very long one, while I should be giving you guys a long chapter anyway, because of my spring holiday. Well, I'm sorry.**_

_**On other news, it's my birthday today… so yay? Well, happy twelve years to me… hehehe.**_

_**And unfortunately, school is arriving soon on Tuesday, so updates may be slightly slower.**_

_**Oh! In my spare time while I was in Indonesia, I was thinking of creating a playlist for each of the chapters… you can see the list I have created on my profile. The title at the top of the chapter is the song for this chapter.**_

_**I apologize again for the delay, and bye!**_


	7. Earl of Engagement Part 2

**Secrects – OneRepublic**

I dreaded opening my eyes today. I had to keep reassuring myself that the Prince would not find me. It was a weird mix of feelings. On one hand I wanted him to find me and take me away from here. On the other hand however, I wouldn't want to be stuck with him for the rest of my life _or_ be arrested for throwing a shoe at his royal highness. Either way, it was a no win situation.

As I did my morning routine I went down the stairs to get some food. On the fridge, there was a touch screen that contained a list of groceries to buy and things to do around the house today. The list of chores, was once again, nearly endless. No words could describe how much I hated Isabel as I scrolled down the list. I had so much homework to catch up with as well, considering the fact that I miss school at least once a week to finish chores.

Now, the marriage to the prince didn't seem like a very bad idea. The servants, taking a pity, prepared the breakfast and served it before I could have the chance. I sat down, hoping to finish my meal before Natalie and Isabel woke up. Unfortunately, after my first bite of the cream cheese and salmon on toast, the door opened. Isabel looked like she just lost a battle and Natalie, ash faced, looked drained.

"Morning," I said meticulously, busying my mouth with another bite. The paranoia began to afflict me. I tried to act casually. They would not find out. They only caught a glimpse of me at the ball and then I left with the prince. If Ian, who _danced_ with me hasn't recognized me, then those two surely didn't have a clue. Still, the thought of discovery sent chills down my spine.

Both Kabras ignored my greeting and sat down to eat. "God how many times I have to tell you, don't put scones on my plate, I'm on a diet! And what the hell is this?" Natalie acidly began to have a fit, criticizing her food and harassing the rickety maid.

"Have they found out who the girl is?" Isabel asked coolly. Jerome, our butler shook his head in response. Natalie gripped her spoon in anger.

"Probably the brat from the Trenevix family," she spat.

I swallowed my food as fast as possible and excused myself from the table. I was half expecting Ian to come to breakfast, but he didn't bother to come down.

I had a massive urge to see Ian. I walked past his room. The door was closed. I could almost see him through the door, sleeping peacefully. With a sigh I walked past, going to the storage area to grab some brooms.

My ears were soon going to bleed. The volume on my iPod was merciless as I listened to music. Usually loud music made any brooding thoughts go away and made the time fly faster. It also gave me the energy to work. I swept the floors the rhythm of the music. I caught the sight of Milla entering the room and paused the music. Everything suddenly became gravely silent and there was a high-pitched ring in my ears.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked slightly alarmed, looking at her wide eyes.

"The royal messenger, Andre Marceau is here! They are looking for the girl with the glass shoe!" she gushed. My heart halted and my lungs refused to suck in air. I stared back at her, wishing she had said that they looking for a girl to clean rooms instead.

"Wh-Are you sure? What did they say? Did they say my name?" I spluttering choked the broomstick with my bare hands. She faltered for moment before gently shaking her head, making her ponytail dance.

"Lady Natalie said it is her shoe," she confusedly replied. The heart that was currently reluctant to beat was now in pain and my head buzzed.

"O-Oh right…of course," I breathed out. I was so zoned out, imagining Natalie in her bridal dress and me forever enslaved in this house, that I haven't realized how Milla was dragging me to the main hall.

"They want all the ladies of the household," Milla whispered, tugging me desperately. Before I could resist I heard someone refer to me.

"Young lady! Come here," Andre exclaimed. He was somewhat of a celebrity, in charge of managing the Royal family. He seemed so much taller on TV. Natalie sat with her foot forcefully pushed inside the shoe. Through the clear shoes you could see her foot drain from color and her heel was poking out of the edge.

"She wasn't at the ball, Monsieur Marceau," Isabel said heftily, with a cold, fake smile.

"Madame, our records indicate that this shoe was registered directly to the Kabra family. After all, there are only ten pairs of these and only two pairs are in Europe. Since it cannot be Lady Natalie, surely it must be this young lady. I am ordered to let every available bachelorette to try it on."

"This shoe is freakishly small! No one would fit into this!" Natalie hissed, losing her cool. Andre looked at my feet.

"S-Sir I don't think I should-" I began.

"Louis! Bring the shoe over here, and bring her a stool," Andre said with a click of his finger. A young man immediately placed a stool behind me and took the shoe off Natalie 's foot carelessly and placed it back into its cushioned box. He brought it up to me on one knee as if he was proposing. My throat was dry and I seemed to lose my ability to speak. Natalie 's glare and Isabel's vicious eyes burned into me.

Still in a trance, I shakily lifted my foot and it glided smoothly into the shoe. There was chorus of gasps. The maids and servants surrounded the scene. Isabel's eyes lost any sign of human kindness and Natalie's lips tightened.

"Hallelujah! We found our girl! And it's not even 1 o'clock yet!" Andre exclaimed taking my hand and kissing gently the top of it. "Mademoiselle, as the fiancée of the Crown Prince you are immediately required to be taken to the castle. Your family can come after wedding arrangements have been confirmed."

"Wait! She never went to the ball! And eve if she did, she should have the other shoe right?" Natalie spat lividly. Andre thought about for a moment and rubbed his stubble.

"Perhaps. Child, do you have the other pair?"

My heart was beating. I did have the shoe, but would it be a good idea to bring it down here? Isabel and Natalie looked challengingly at me. I could practically see what they were thinking.

_Don't even try to pretend you have it. And if you do, and you show it, we'll make you wish you were never born._

I knew I should be stronger that this. All I had to do was stand up and show them the other shoe. But years of being threatened by them, didn't allow me to get up from the place I was sitting in. I was scared. Natalie smirked in victory.

"You see? I told you she didn't have it."

Andre sighed in disappointment and rubbed his forehead, wondering what to do next. I licked my lips.

"I-I do have it. It's in my room, underneath my bed," I murmured avoiding their gaze. Andre sighed in relief and sent Louis, the young man, to go and fetch them.

"Oh there is no need to look for them, because you see, once again she's lying," Natalie said. "Because I happen to have the other pair."

My heart froze and I nearly cried out in disbelief. How could she take it? No she couldn't have! When did she look in my room? The panic on my face brought satisfaction to both ladies of the Kabra house. Natalie haughtily walked up to the china cabinet and taking out the key she opened the drawer and produced a shoebox.

With a smirk she proudly opened the box.

I stopped breathing.

**Author's Note:**

**So… I've updated! I have decided to try and update once a week due to coming back to school and all. Note this: Try. **

**The song for this chapter is Secrets by OneRepublic because… well figure it out yourself Einstein. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	8. Baroness of Betrayal

_**Falling For You – Cobie Caillat**_

The box that Natalie was holding so gleefully was empty.

"Looking for this?" the voice so rough and so familiar, rang into the room. Ian leaned against the doorway with a victorious gleam, propping up the glass shoe with his index finger. Isabel took a sharp intake of breath. Or was it me?

"Ian, yes I was actually, what are you doing with my shoe?" Natalie asked calmly. I forgot how amazing she was at lying. It was obvious that Natalie and Ian were Lucians. Expert thieves and liars. Playing the game of wit and deceit, trying to outsmart each other.

He smirked. "This isn't your shoe Natalie, it's hers."

Andre looked back and forth. "Duke of Bordeaux, with all due respect, would you be kind enough to explain what's going on?"

"Nothing is going on. Natalie here thought this shoe belonged to her, when in fact I know this belongs to Amy. The certificate is written under her name."

I gaped at Ian open mouthed. What the hell was he doing?

Andre looked disapprovingly at Natalie and took the other shoe from Ian. He, like Louis, sat on one knee and slipped both of my feet into the pair.

"That is mine!" Natalie shrieked, reddening from fury. Andre was somewhat sympathetic, looking at Natalie. She was breathing heavily, glaring at me. He could detect how tense and intimidated I was by all this. He stood up and clasped his hands together.

"Ladies, I am sorry to do this. I am sure you both would make lovely brides but it seems that this shoe does fit Amy… However, I am prepared to give another deciding criteria on who is actually the royal bride. Amy, would you like me to ask the following question? To give a deciding chance for Natalie?" Andre asked.

Natalie looked at me with an expression of betrayal and threat. "Yes," I croaked immediately looking away from her. I looked at Ian. He gave me a small smile, but his eyes weren't reflecting it.

"If you claim to be that girl who left with the Prince, how did you happen to lose your glass slipper?" he asked and threw a mirthful glance my way. My face dropped. Natalie thought about it carefully and narrowing her eyes she looked at me. After a moment of silence, she spoke up.

"I-I left it there while I was running away from him," she softly said. "Because I was scared of marriage and decided it was too early. Today however, I am confident that I want to get married. I regret leaving the Crown Prince yesterday."

Seriously, that girl needed an award for excellent ad-libbing; Andre sighed and pursed his lips. He turned to me.

"If _you_ were the girl, how did you lose your shoe?" he asked, already knowing the answer. I've never felt so sheepish in my life.

"I-I threw it at him," I said quietly. Ian allowed himself a small, pleased chuckle. Andre grinned. Isabel and Natalie gaped at me.

"I wish that shoe actually hit him," Andre muttered quietly to me and stretched out his hand. I took it and stood up. "Go child and take only necessary things. Everything will be provided in the castle so don't pack a suitcase. We will deliver your things to the castle on a later date. The prince is anxious to see you."

Shakily I began to walk away. I heard Natalie's light sobbing and for a moment, I felt a pang of sympathy. Ian watched me go and as soon as I passed him, I heard his footsteps follow mine. We walked in silence up the stairs and I entered the room.

"Congratulations Amy, looks like you attended the ball _and_ you're finally leaving this household. Two wishes coming true in less than twenty-four hours. It's a miracle isn't it?" he asked watching me pack my things. I only packed underwear and toiletries.

"Yeah. I guess wishes do come true after all. Thank you Ian, for what you did," I murmured, glancing down at my shoes. If he didn't take it from Natalie, it would probably be her right now packing her things. Ian came up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I looked at him speechless and our eyes locked.

A bang on the door made me jump. "Mademoiselle! The press is here! They managed to get into the house! Come quickly!" I heard Louis shout from behind the door.

Ian grabbed my hand and we quickly walked out of my room. I heard clicking of the cameras and many voices at once ringing from downstairs. We were walking towards the back exit of the mansion. Louis already followed Andre out the door. I heard hear the clacking of my shoes. The shrill voice of Isabel, demanding the press to leave was heard all over the mansion.

I liked the feeling of Ian's hand holding mine. It didn't make me go crazy, on the contrary, it made me feel safe and at ease. Andre's car was slowly driving up towards the back exit. Louis quietly began to move towards the car. "Follow me mademoiselle," he gently said.

I took a step forward when Ian's hand tugged me back gently. We were behind the door of the exit, and I was pressed against the wall. He put his hand against the wall, inches away from my face. And then he planted a light small kiss on my lips. I stood there frozen, frigid, praying that this entire day wasn't a dream.

"Just an early wedding present," he murmured cupping my cheek. "Go and enjoy your life to the fullest, Amelia Marie." He then opened the door and gave me a light push. I turned around and wanted to grab his hand.

"Wait!" I yelled before my waist was wrapped around with Andre's hand.

"Mademoiselle we have to go!" he urgently shouted. Two big men were shielding us from hordes of men and women holding out microphones, and blinding me with big flashes. Questions were thrown from all directions.

"Mademoiselle! What does it feel like being the princes' bride?"

"Is it true you are the love interest of his long time rival?"

"Can you confirm the rumors that you've been a maid to the house of Kabra?"

My head was spinning and my eyes were blinded.

As soon as I stepped into the car, I realized I just took one of the biggest steps in my life. I was going to become a royalty. I was going to get married. I just left the first cage, and I'm probably going to be settled in another one. Only this one was going to be more spacious, and perhaps made of gold and diamonds.

_Ian_. Did he just kiss me? This, after all, wasn't a dream, was it?

As we were driving off, I saw him once again leaning against the doorway. That same smile playing on his lips, which didn't reflect in his eyes.

The cool air from the conditioner blew in my face, cooling the flush on my cheeks. The two bodyguards were seated in the front. Andre was fanning himself and talking rapidly to Louis about the press.

I sighed and silently said goodbye to the household I'm never going to miss.

I few seconds passed and I, closing my eyes, was already replaying the events of today. I skipped to the kiss. It was my first actually. My first kiss, was given to Ian, or perhaps taken by him. But it was tender, delicate-

I snapped open my eyes to look back at the house. I once again replayed the words he said to me and then my heart went stiff. Nobody knew Amelia Marie was Amy Cahill.

He called me Amelia Marie.

I never told him Amelia Marie was _me_.

**Break Line**

Back at the mansion, Natalie was already in her room, glumly looking at the car that was far in the horizon, on its way to the castle that she once dreamed of being her home. She hated this house too. She too, wanted her freedom, from her constantly oppressing mother and heartless brother.

She jumped at the creak of the door opening. Her mother stood, her cold amber eyes luminous the in the shadows. Natalie swallowed down her fear.

She has failed her mother.

"I-I'm sorry mother, I didn't know Amy was going to the ball. I tried my best, if only Ian hadn't-"

Isabel raised her arm in silence, and Natalie immediately hushed. Of course her traitor of a brother, Ian wouldn't get into any kind of trouble. As the only male, he is the soul inheritor of the house, has his own private investments and a title. What could possible mother do to him? Hit him like she did her?

She knew deep inside Amy deserved this and somewhere she found a tiny piece of happiness for her. But the feel of betrayal and fear of her mother was overwhelming.

"Natalie," Isabel called out, snapping her out of her daze.

"Yes mother," she whispered.

"This isn't over yet. You still have a chance of getting him back. Remember, they aren't married yet and we, as her family, will be residing at the castle with her."

Natalie hesitantly nodded.

"Don't fail me this time," her mother warned and slammed the door. Natalie knew what this meant, even though she didn't have the wish or the will to do such a dirty job.

But did she really have a choice?

After all, Amy Cahill _did_ take away her dream.

**Author's Note:**

**The song for this chapter is **_**Falling For You**_** by**_** Cobie Caillat. **_**I apologize for the not so inconspicuous break line. After many attempts of trying to create a break line, and some help from Lapulta, it has never shown up. So I give up.**

**Weird, isn't it? That I get so ticked off, and give up after a stupid break line. I have a new enemy besides crazy fangirls on this archive. **_**Break lines.**_

**Watch out break lines, because I'm **_**so**_** going to get you… after I finish my biscuit… and my morning coffee… and – oh, just forget it.**

_**Mwah!**_** I love you all, and thanks for the reviews!**


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